Monday, December 22, 2014

The strip shooting contest, and what follows: The Outlaw's Daughter

I really love this book, and I think you might, too! It's full of trains and brothels, and cowboys and Indians--everything that makes a Western fun, in my book. Heh.She could tell he was trying to get her riled up so that she wouldn’t shoot straight, and that made her even madder. She turned sideways, sighted along the revolver at one of the biggest branches, cocked and fired.“What?” she said in disbelief. She had missed. She had probably missed by a mile.“There goes your hat,” said Travis matter-of-factly. “The kick’s completely different when you don’t have your shoulder to take it, through the rifle stock.”Maggie cocked and fired again.“Right boot,” said Travis. “That one was closer. Try it with both hands.”“I won’t, dammit.” She fired.“Left boot. Stop and take ‘em off, honey.”Maggie glared at him. Then she handed him the revolver. Still glaring, she took off her hat and tossed it to the side. She stooped and took off her right, and then her left boot. Travis was unbuckling his gun belt as she removed the boots. To her surprise, he put it around her waist. She blushed as he buckled it in front, thinking about the way he had touched her through the fabric of her britches on the train, but he did nothing of the kind now.“We need to get you used to drawing, too. I want you to draw, put both hands on the handle, and set your feet the way you would if you were firing your Winchester. Understand?”“Yes, sir,” Maggie said, because she did truly feel humbled at having missed three times. It had been many years she’d missed twice in a row with her rifle.“Just practice drawing for now, alright?”So Maggie drew. It was a lot harder than it looked. She drew ten times, and then twenty, and then, finally, she had it. It was just teaching your hand how to move.“Alright,” Travis said. “Now show me how you’re going to set your feet. Don’t fire, just draw and set for me.”So she did that, and it only took three tries before Travis said, “Alright—fire next time.”The branch exploded, and Maggie gave a yell of triumph.“There you go, honey,” he said. He handed her a box of bullets, and let her reload as he went to set up more branches.After that, Maggie hit six out of six shots, with two hands on the gun, and Travis hit six of six standing in profile.“You’re gettin’ the hang of it, honey,” he said.“I coulda hit Mason,” she said bitterly, “if I’d practiced.”“We’ll get him,” Travis said. “Let’s try one-handed.”Maggie drew, and missed.“There go your britches,” Travis said, chuckling, firing from the hip and hitting a branch as if it were the easiest thing in the world.She tried again.“And your shirt.”Not knowing how she could possibly feel ashamed to be without her pants in front of him now, Maggie nevertheless turned away to unbuckle the gun belt so that she could take off the rest of her clothes.“Put the gun belt back on, when the rest of you is bare. You’re gonna lose it last.”Something in the way he spoke made Maggie smile, but also sent a lightning bolt of heat to her pussy. Won’t be long now, something inside her said.She turned back to him, now wearing only his own gun belt. The look she saw in his eyes made her smile even wider, and then despite her frustration at her lack of skill, she giggled.“Maggie Curtin, I can’t rightly say why, but the sight of you in nothin’ but my gun belt is the most beautiful thing I ever saw.”“Are you hard, Travis?” she asked softly.“Very, very hard, honey. Hard for you.”“Are you gonna fuck me, Travis Quill?” From bashful to brazen, in a moment, but it felt so right. “Are you gonna be the first man who ever fucked me?”A strange, hard look came into Travis’ eyes, but it didn’t take away the tenderness that remained in his voice as he pulled her close, put his hand possessively on her naked bottom, and kissed her. Then he said very softly, “I am gonna fuck you so good and hard that you never forget this shootin’ lesson, Maggie. Now hurry up and miss your next shot so I can give you the whuppin’ you got comin’.”

Maggie laughed, stepped away, and hit three branches in a row. Travis’ smile was broader each time she looked over at him. Through his eyes, she saw the naked farm girl on the river bank, earning her right to learn all those things about pleasing a man that she’d always wanted to know.Click here to buy it on Amazon!

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Emily Tilton, whose books have hit number one on Amazon in four different erotica categories, wishes she could live out her fantasies of submission the way her characters do.

Emily's erotica is a narrative version of her nearly lifelong quest to reconcile her submissive erotic orientation with her ethics. She writes erotica, not erotic romance: her books are about sex, because writing about sex helps her understand that fundamental part of her life better. She hopes maybe it does the same for her readers.

Over the many years since Emily became aware of her sometimes unbearable craving for ravishment, spanking, and above all anal domination, she has tried to come to terms with that craving in more ways than she can count. The first of the ways was by reading, voraciously, every piece of BDSM erotica she could find.

Eventually, she read Story of O. As is reflected throughout her work, it changed her life, though the change has been gradual, and continues to this day. The idea that other women might share the lusts she has by turns been ashamed of and defiantly proud of, that a woman like the real Pauline Réage might write so beautifully of those lusts, and work them out so thoroughly and even pitilessly on a character, put Réage's famous pencil in her right hand. Or, to put it in the terms of EXPLORATIONS, which she considers her magnum opus, it put her left hand on the keyboard of her laptop and her right hand in her lap, if you know what she means. Emily started to write spanking stories.